


Mirror mirror

by Sister of Silence (Orcbait)



Series: An Age of Heroes [8]
Category: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: Drama, F/M, Origin Story, Past Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:23:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcbait/pseuds/Sister%20of%20Silence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Custodians Mikaelor and Arlette thought the antique mirror an interesting curiosity at best and as such a suitable gift for the Emperor, who they knew loved such oddities. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite as harmless as they had thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror mirror

**Author's Note:**

> The Fluffy Underbelly weekly prompt entry for 'Alien Artefact is actually Mirror of Erised'. And if you think that something so sad but ultimately nice/hopeful can’t possibly be made terrible? Then all I can say is: “Oh sweet summer child. Not all the heart’s desires are things we wish to see, or things we should allow to be.”

“A gift? And it isn’t even my name day,” the Emperor remarked, an amused smile playing around His lips. A Companion walked one either side of Him, resplendent in their red robes and golden light plate. They had blindfolded Him for the occasion. Arlette held His left arm to guide Him, though she doubted He needed her help – or His eyes for that matter – to navigate the Imperial Palace. “What did you two do, this time?”

“Nothing, your Majesty,” Mikaelor replied solemnly beside Him. “We came upon it in the course of our duty and thought you might like it.” Arlette gave him a look from across the Emperor’s side that spoke volumes of disapproval at the half lie.

“Really? And it so happened to be on your assigned route?” He enquired as they led Him into the oldest parts of the Imperial Palace. He could tell because the smooth marble was abruptly replaced by ancient wood boarding that creaked underfoot. Judging by the cool breeze they had entered the peristyle courtyard that laid in front of the Serene Court – the halls surrounding His own - that the Companions resided in. Whatever their gift was, they had apparently hid it under their bed. Curious.

“Well, we were just-,” Mikaelor began, but Arlette interrupted him before he would be untruthful to the Emperor’s face: “We found it during an investigation,” she said. “And felt it prudent to bring it to your attention, my Emperor.”

“I see. And how is it that my two most beloved Companions found themselves an investigation when they were under strict orders to guard and not leave the D4-quadrant of the Inner Circumvent?” He smiled faintly when He felt the two young Custodians flinch, both physically and psychically. Just as He’d thought, then.

“We were bored,” Arlette admitted, guilt obvious in her tone. “It was a job for the Arbites, really, but we were so bored, my Emperor. We should have been at your side, not out in the furthest guard sphere doing nothing at all.”

Every morning before sunrise the Companions were assigned guard parameters around the Emperor. It had been a council day, which meant as His preferred guardians the two of them would have been at His side to assist Him during the meetings with delegations from across Terra and beyond. However, a minor indiscretion involving impressive amounts of wine and very little clothing had seen them confined to the outer guard spheres instead. Chief Companion Valens had accurately guessed what the two younger Companions valued most and had removed them from His side as far as the power invested in him allowed him, as punishment for the little debacle. Valens had also told them in no uncertain terms that the peace and quiet would give them the opportunity to rethink their actions and that they would remain there until such a time they would think twice before disgracing themselves.

“That bad?” The Emperor enquired, flawlessly interpreting the Companions’ emotionally heavy auras. They were young and a little foolish, testing the boundaries set to them, but there was no real malice in their hearts. They were also fiercely loyal guardians. He hadn’t failed to notice they only strayed when they were not at His side. He briefly entertained the notion of keeping them on a leash. Valens would never allow it. Certainly not where an outsider might see. It made the thought all the more amusing.

“I’m sorry we have failed you,” Mikaelor added, his tone as crestfallen as Arlette’s.

“You haven’t failed me,” He replied as He gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Neither of you have, but you should heed Valens. He’s a good captain.” 

_Not as good as Vendatha_. Mikaelor’s thought resounded loudly between the three of them. The Companion stiffened. “I didn’t mean to-.”

The Emperor shook His head, more to Himself than the Companion. He had suspected this might be at the root of things. They weren’t the only ones, either. Vendatha had been Chief Companion for a very long time, all but becoming The Chief Companion. Many alive now no longer remembered his predecessor. Vendatha had always been a peer to his fellows, a responsible older brother more than a leader. Valens, on the other hand, was a Custodian field commander first and foremost and not everyone was taken by his orderly, military approach to everything. The choice to make Valens the new Chief Companion had been largely political: an attempt to prevent the slow segregation between the Companions and the greater body of Custodians. Malcador had counselled against it.

“None lament Vendra’s decision more than I, but it is his decision to make,” the Emperor replied. “We must respect that.”

The young Companions beside Him muttered in agreement, but not overly enthusiast. He suppressed a sigh. It was clear from the content of their thoughts that Malcador had been correct, as ever. He favoured them too much and it had made them bold. “It’s no use being difficult with Valens, he can make your lives far more troublesome than you two can his,” the Emperor continued, mustering just enough sternness to give His words weight. “And I cannot keep Companions that will not heed their orders, however boring they might be.”

Arlette gasped and Mikaelor flinched. “Don’t make us leave your side!” they all but exclaimed at the same time.

His humours softened at their distress, but He maintained His tone. “I do not want to, but if you keep acting in this fashion you will leave me no choice. I cannot allow you two to use my affection.” It pained Him to speak to them so, but they were words they needed to hear. He should have said them sooner.

“We aren’t trying to bribe you!” Arlette replied, her tone alarmed.

“It’s not a bribe!” Mikaelor assured Him. “We weren’t seeking it out or anything.”

The Emperor laughed at that, startling the two all over again. He put an arm around each of them, hugging them to His sides. “My dear, dear little troublemakers. I have lived a very, very long time and dealt with far shadier types than the two of you. I know a bribe when I am presented one.”

“Is it working?” Mikaelor enquired with a lopsided grin, stealing a look at Arlette before glancing at Him.

“Of course not,” the Emperor chuckled. “You’ve merely made me curious.”

“We just miss you so,” Arlette said softly as she glanced up at Him. He was smiling and it made her smile a little too. Maybe the situation wasn’t as awful as she’d feared a moment ago.

“And I miss you two too,” He replied fondly. “Promise me you’ll act more responsible from here on.”

“I promise,” Arlette said solemnly. Mikaelor nodded in agreement as they entered the modest dorm that was all their own. “I promise, too.”

Arlette took the blindfold off and He leaned down to kiss her cheek before turning to the tall, rectangular object shoved between their bunks. It was covered by a bed sheet and exuded an aura of quiet malevolence, rippling outward into reality like tendrils of ink in water. A frown creased His brow. He aught to have noticed an object like this anywhere near the Palace.

He reached towards it and pulled the cloth away. Before them stood an ancient, ornately Gothic mirror with clawed feet, it’s gold paint flaking and it’s shimmering surface tarnished. A barely legible text was inscribed across the upper edge of its frame, the relief faded with age: ‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’. The letters rearranged themselves in His mind as He read them, but before He could avert His gaze it had flicked down to the tarnished surface.

Reflected in the mirror He saw Himself. No, not quite. The lines crossing His features were sharper, His expression harder, His overall demeanour less refined. He realised in that instant, that He was gazing upon His younger self, upon a face He’d only ever seen reflected in polished obsidian. Gone were His fine council robes, replaced by the laminar armour He knew so well He could feel its weight and chafe, smell it’s cured leather and greased metal, see the red glint of bronze under the desert sun.

Coskun stood behind Him, the horse’s golden coat gleaming as it tossed its proud head, its finely crafted tack ringing across the sands. The animal leaned against Him, dropping its head across His shoulder and nuzzling His neck  as it was still wont to do.

Arlette stood besides Him, her face exactly as He remembered it from so long ago; her sharp features softened by her warm smile. His hand rested on her shoulder, knuckles bloody and bruised, her smaller hand touching on His. She was wearing the blue smock she loved so well for its unusual colour, brought from a distant land by traders more than willing to part with the cloth roll in exchange for their lives. 

She held His chain morning star, the ancient weapon grotesque in her slender hand. It’s size and weight alone should be too much for her to wield, but her grip on the leather-bound haft was steady, determined. Around them, the sand dunes of their ancestral lands ran red with the blood of His enemies. The lumps scattered within their long shadows solidifying into the all too familiar shapes of shattered bodies with faces rigid in death. But these were not the faces of strangers, of nameless others crushed into the soft sand. They were the faces of those He saw every day: His sons, His Companions and few true friends.

Crimson streaked His chain morningstar and Arlette’s slender hand. The liquid dripped down slower than it should, each languid drop plummeting towards the shifting sands with the finality of mortality. At her small, sandal laced feet laid the broken remnants of the young Companion standing here with them. Mikaelor, her accomplice and closest friend. She smiled still, ever sweetly, and beckoned Him.

“Where did you find this?” He enquired, His tone uncharacteristically hard as He gathered them near Him, away from the mirror though never quite averting His gaze. He could feel the malevolent thing pull at Him, at a thirst He’d thought long since quenched.

Mikaelor exchanged a look with Arlette, who had taken the Emperor’s arm again. Though she saw only herself and Him reflected upon the tarnished surface like any old mirror would, she’d inched behind Him in response to the changes in His aura and the harsh shadows now warring across His face. Though Mikaelor had no psychic abilities of his own, he was quick to follow her example.

“Well?” the Emperor demanded, startling the two Custodians all but herded behind Him. He tried to pull back, to extracate Himself from its inveigling promise and the dark tendrils creeping into His mind not from beyond its boundaries, but from within. It called to Him, to some quintessential part of Him, which yearned in answer.

Mikaelor realised that, perhaps, they should have left well enough alone.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: A lot of time and hard work went into the creation and publication of this story and as such it is very dear to me. I would love to hear what you thought of it. And please, share this story freely but credit me and link back to me. Thank you!


End file.
